Freelance Article Writer & Creative Writer

I raised an eyebrow at my own reflection. Her tired eyes and dark circles matched perfectly with her crazy hair sticking up in every direction. I shrugged my shoulders and turned on my flat iron as my reflection mimicked my movements. She seemed to be more careless than I’d hoped. Her gestures were just so…slow and gloomy. I stopped what I was doing and stared into her eyes. I could see sadness within them. There was so much pain and fear, that I couldn’t believe she hadn’t exploded yet. I watched as her eyes started to glisten. A small tear escaped from the corner of her eye and journeyed to the bottom of her cheek. I raised my hand to feel the wetness as her opposite hand did the same. What was this? What did it mean? This single tear that broke along my fingertips carried so much frustration that it was scary to think about how much was left inside. She looked paler than usual…even a little sick. She tried to smile, but it was obvious there was no happiness behind it. Everything about her seemed fake. “What’s wrong?” I asked her. But I guess she could ask me the same. Either way, neither of us would have an answer. She was as oblivious to the situation as I was. I sat down feeling a bit woozy, remembering I hadn’t eaten much the day before. I leaned back and stared up at the ceiling, wondering if there was anyone staring back down at me. I wondered if we were alone in this…me and my reflection. She seemed to be the only one who could tell me how I was truly feeling. Only this time was different. We could see the effect, but we couldn’t find the cause.